


in your worn sweatshirt and your mother's old skirt

by orphan_account



Series: young adult friction [3]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Convenience store!AU, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, pretty much the story of how they met so no pairings in this part, tw: mild mentions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 15:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts off, as all good stories start off, in Paris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in your worn sweatshirt and your mother's old skirt

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write about how they all met (barring Grantaire, Cosette, Éponine and Musichetta of course).
> 
> Am I a firm believer in occasionally badass!Jehan? Yes, yes I am.

It’s a long convoluted tale; how nine young men and three women managed to all find themselves together in one city, sharing one life.

It starts off, as all good stories start off, in Paris, with a young boy possessing the appearance of an Apollo reborn.

His name is Enjolras.

Enjolras was That Child, the child who would query his teachers on every subject, who would object to the policies of the education system, who would look around and ask the inappropriate questions that the teachers didn’t want students questioning.

He didn’t spend very long in any one school. He couldn’t; he was Disruptive, Did Not Respond Well to Authority, and Refused to Listen in class.

At ten years old, Enjolras was already headed toward disaster, and that was when he met Combeferre.

Combeferre was studious, worked hard and shared the same sentiments as Enjolras. There was only one difference: he wasn’t as vocal, which means he got in trouble far less, and when he sensed Enjolras about to burst, he would take the other boy’s hand in his and squeeze furiously.

Enjolras was on this fourth primary school when he met Combeferre, and he remained in that school until he entered junior high.

That was when they met Courfeyrac, who was in actuality “de Courfeyrac”, but his parents had dropped the “de” for fear of sounding ostentatious.

Courfeyrac was a boy who knew what he wanted out of life, and was not afraid to talk in any circumstance. While Enjolras was the head, and Combeferre was the heart, Courfeyrac was the soul, and the three of them became inseparable all throughout their pre-high school years.

Of course, that was when Enjolras’ parents died, leaving him alone, unsupervised, and in possession of a rather large amount of money.

At fifteen, such a large sum is generally not a Good Idea for a young boy to have, and Enjolras’ entire fund was placed under the protection of Combeferre’s parents, who were now his legal guardians, as he had no other family. Enjolras came to live with the Combeferre’s, and lived for the first time in the reality of society. Enjolras’ parents had been well off, and he had grown up in a rather privileged world compared to most; but he always noticed the racial discrimination around him, the beggars on the steps of Notre Dame, the slurs shouted at those of other religions or ethnicities on the streets.

He hated it.

And as he came to live with Combeferre’s family, who were not wealthy by any means, the fury in his heart began to grow, and Enjolras fashioned himself into a defender of the common man. He devoured his school readings concerning the French Revolution, and wore the tricolours on his jacket.

Together with Combeferre and Courfeyrac, Enjolras began volunteering with the poor and attending protest rallies. And at the age of seventeen, he moved out of his guardian’s house with his two best friends, and into an apartment in the 19th arrondissement. They worked well together, balancing schoolwork and part time jobs.

One day however, a fairly quiet bright morning, the summer before their last year of high school, Courfeyrac bounded into their shared bedroom and started performing an enthusiastic rendition of Kat DeLuna’s _Whine Up._

That was when Combeferre and Enjolras decided they needed a new roommate.

His name was Jean Prouvaire. He was the same age as Courfeyrac, a hopeless romantic, and possessed the soul of a bird, flying on the breeze.

 

* * *

 

It’s a story that Enjolras does not often repeat; the story of how he and Jean met. Partly because it was little embarrassing and highlighted his own naïveté, and partly because if Jean had not been there, everything could have worked out very differently and rather tragically.

It was late, and he was walking back home from volunteering at a homeless shelter. Enjolras considered himself a firm friend of the people, but as a white male of money clearly visible on the clothes he wore, possessing a face resembling that of a girl, his appearance sometimes worked against him.

He didn’t even see the men until they were upon him, grabbing his arms and pushing him to the ground. Enjolras scrambled for his phone, to call Courfeyrac or Combeferre, but it slid easily out of his pocket and onto the ground, before it was promptly stepped on by one of the attackers.

“Rich white boy thinks he’s so clever, walking around in the dark,” one of them sneered, and Enjolras gritted his teeth.

At that moment, one of the men went flying. Enjolras looked up in surprise to see a tall young man, fairly well built, dressed in the oddest collection of clothing. The man punched the leader square in the face, and the others went scattering fairly quickly.

“Thank you,” Enjolras gasped, as the man helped him to his feet. He appeared around the same age as Enjolras, with a strong jawline and heavy, pensive eyes.

“You should be careful round these parts,” the man said, holding out the remains of Enjolras’ phone. He winced.

“I call myself a friend of the people, but it seems they do not always share the sentiment,” Enjolras sighed.

The man shrugged. “It is only to be expected. Your intentions may be noble, but sometimes those who look at you only see white privilege, and that’s that. I get it as well.”

“Who are you?” Enjolras asked.

“Prouvaire. Jean Prouvaire, though friends call me Jehan. Want me to walk home with you?”

 

* * *

 

Jehan Prouvaire only wanted equality among people, and was often saddened at cases of abuse he saw in the tenement houses he occupied. After meeting Enjolras, Combeferre and Courfeyrac, he opted to join them.

And the Friends of the ABC gained another member.

After graduation, the four of them spent a year together, working and volunteering around the poorest parts of Paris. They wrote publications and attended protests, and had plans to all enter university starting in the spring.

That is, until Combeferre’s parents decided to emigrate. And Enjolras, who was still legally under their protection, had no choice but to go with them.

Courfeyrac and Jehan were distraught, but their parents were wealthy and fairly distant. It didn’t take much for them to persuade their parents that they were going to study abroad. (And possibly never come back).

The four of them arrived together in a new country, knowing basic English and little else of how things worked, until they met Feuilly.

Feuilly was not attending university, but worked in a small shop making fans. He met Combeferre at a lecture on racism, and introduced the Friends to Joly and Bossuet, whom he had known since he was young. They lived in an area of the city with a significant French population, and life became easier.

That only left Bahorel, who Courfeyrac literally bumped into one day as he was buying groceries down at the supermarket. Bahorel was drunk, angrily shouting at a cashier in French, and the poor girl couldn’t understand a word.

Courfeyrac smiled at her apologetically, and carefully translated each word.

Bahorel latched onto his arm and it wasn’t long before he joined them as well.

The eight of them devoted themselves to working against injustice in the community, and that’s how they met Marius Pontmercy, whose father had just thrown him out of the house. He didn’t share the exact same political views as Enjolras and the rest, but was a firm believer in certain areas of social change.

A few years passed, they entered university and they all moved into apartments together. Enjolras, Combeferre and Joly on one side of the street, Marius, Courfeyrac and Jehan on the other side (Combeferre and Enjolras hadn’t roomed with Courfeyrac since Paris, they adored Courf but just couldn’t live with him), and Feuilly, Bossuet and Bahorel lived about a ten minute drive away in Feuilly’s small condo.

And that is where Enjolras and Grantaire’s story begins.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading/Merci de lire.
> 
> For fic notes, drabbles, questions and possible spin offs, hit me up at [tumblr](http://combeferresque.tumblr.com). 
> 
>  
> 
> Courfeyrac is that guy whom you love to death but can't live with. God knows how Marius and Jehan do it.  
> For reference, "[Whine Up](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2m-pZFnJZEU)" by Kat DeLuna. Now imagine Courfeyrac singing and dancing to that on a quiet morning, and you can understand why Enj and 'Ferre threw him out.
> 
> In regards to Jehan, I am going on Brammer!Jehan's appearance (actually, I'm going on their movie appearances for each character). I love the idea of Jehan appearing masculine in physicality, but wearing floral prints and having a lot of femme characteristics as well, "[because being feminine does not exclusively mean having long hair and curves, and being effeminate, being doe-eyed and a soft sway of hand can still be done with short hair, a strong jaw and hair on your chest.](http://pondicusrex.tumblr.com/post/45548685621/i-think-ive-finally-figured-out-my-problem-with-the)" I would know.
> 
> As well as that, I've been wondering what their first names could be, and I've pretty much settled on some though they won't be used in any of my fics, because I know how weird it is to read a fic with someone else's headcanon names. But here they are, just for the record:  
> Enjolras - Marcelin (from Mars, the Roman god of War)  
> Combeferre - Philippe  
> Courfeyrac - Toulouse (Toulouse de Courfeyrac is just too great to pass up)  
> Feuilly - Alexandre  
> Joly - Henri  
> Bossuet - Sebastien  
> Bahorel - François (or Francis, because he hates François)  
> Grantaire - Deonys (from Dionysius. See what I did there.)


End file.
